Five Days In The Lives Of The Anubis Students
by A Reviewing Reader
Summary: Five one-shots about stuff, and a bunch of couples and fluffy stuff. My entry for MrMagicalMoron's Super Duper Challenge!
1. America

Disclaimer: I don't own House of Anubis.

This chapter is in Nina's POV. And yes, I am a Fabina sucker. But the next chapters will be other couples too, don't worry!

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><p>Chapter One: America<p>

The scent of a fresh rain that waters the wide meadows. A gentle arc of a new rainbow hangs in the sky. Wildflowers blooming with their vibrant colors. Bright light from the shining sun cascading over the sapphire sea. Dew glitters like emeralds against the dark green, grassy ground.

Nina places the stack of photos back into the Kodak envelope her Gran had sent her. The photos are of her hometown in America, where it is full of life and winter had just ended. She rereads the note attached to the photos, missing her home with every word.

_Nina-_

_I loved reading your last letter. I am very excited for summer, too-mostly because you'll be back here in Florida! Sorry to hear you are homesick. To help that, here are photos my friend Andrew took of Miami Beach as soon as the snow melted. As you can see, it is official. Spring is here! I know you would love to gather flowers when you were younger and take pictures of the beach __with that little camera you had, so I hope you enjoy them and remember home. We all miss you!_

_Lots of Love,  
><em>_Gran_

The problem is, though, the pictures make her feel even more homesick and missing Florida because of the memories in the letter and the photos.

She remembers picking flowers from the field near her house and taking apples from the large trees in her backyard to make apple pie. Dancing in the rain with her friends and then getting warm and toasty with a cup of soup to eat. Singing songs in an off-key note, but not caring who listens. Back when she was a kid and did not have a care in the world.

"Hey Nina!" says a voice from behind her.

She jumps a foot in the air as her bubble of memories is abruptly popped. Turning around, she notices Fabian with two coffee mugs in hand, looking at her with a bemused expression. "Fabian!" Nina lightly smacks him on the arm. "Don't scare me like that!"

He chuckles. "Sorry, thought you heard me. What's up?" He glances over my shoulder at the photos in my hand, seeing the one depicting the sparkling sea. "Wow-pretty."

"It's my home in America. I miss it so much," Nina says with a sigh. She glances out the window, seeing streams of water running down the glass window. "It's the beginning of spring over there, while here it is dreary clouds and thunderstorms."

"Hey, hey. England isn't _that_ bad. And I thought you were used to the weather by now; you've been here nearly three months," Fabian jokes. When he sees that Nina does not smile or even roll her eyes at his lame joke, Fabian's voice drops to a whisper.

"You okay, Nina?" he asks, putting down the mugs on the coffee table in front of them. He sits down beside his best friend, turning his body so that all of his attention is focused on her.

"I'm fine," Nina muses. She glances up, a smile on her face. But Fabian knows her well enough to see the strain of being so cheerful is doing to her; it all shows in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes. "What's in the mugs?" she inquires.

Fabian wants to say something about how she should just tell him about her homesickness to let it out, but he bites his tongue and decides to switch topics. He takes the handle of a mug in each hand, proffering one to her.

Nina inhales the scent of the warm yellow liquid that sloshes around inside of each mug, smiling slightly, and then notes each of the little pieces of chicken swimming inside. Bits of noodle float to the top, only to sink back into the steaming liquid, disappearing from sight.

"Chicken soup?" Nina asks, taking a mug and wrapping her hands around it.

"Yeah, it's a cold and dreary day, so I thought some soup would warm you up." Fabian takes a sip of his soup, loving the salty taste of the broth.

They sit in a comfortable silence for a bit, just thinking to themselves. The only noise that penetrates the silence is the soft pattering of the rain hitting the roof far above them.

Nina does not drink her soup, not yet-she is too busy thinking. How had Fabian known about her childhood memory of having chicken soup after being in the rain? She had never told him, not that she could remember, anyway. She had not even told Amber, her closest girl friend, her roommate, with that memory, so how would Fabian know?

She peers at him. He is smiling slightly, looking at the window with keen interest. She honestly does not see what is so fascinating about glass, especially when it is raining. But wait, those are not just any windows.

Near the top, forming a colorful arc, is a rainbow of stained glass that seems to be glowing with brilliant, dazzling colors. The waterfall of rain against the window seems to illuminate the colors, making them shine like crystals and creating a beautiful image.

Suddenly, Fabian is struck with an idea. He glances down at himself to see that he is not wearing anything that could be damaged by rain, and then proposes the question.

"Nina, do you wanna go out?"

Her eyes widen and she can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. Had he really just asked her that? And then Fabian realizes what his sentence sounded like. He stutters out, "N-No. I-I mean, do you wanna-" He sighs. "I meant to say, do you want to go _outside_ with me?"

Nina lifts the now-empty cup from her lips, the soup almost completely gone. Her hope falls as she comprehends his amendment to his previous sentence. She wishes he would ask her out, so fixing it really does not make her feel better. She pushes her feelings away to deal with them later. She tilts her head to the side, saying, "But, Fabian, it's raining."

"Does that really matter? Haven't you ever danced in the rain?" Fabian asks, standing up and taking both mugs into the kitchen. He cleans them quickly, puts them in the dish rack, dries off his hands, and head back to the living room, where Nina is struggling to decide on what she wants to do.

Finally, she is able to say something. "Of course I've danced in the rain, but I was little. I mean, won't our clothes get wet?" Nina glances down at her dark blue sweater that her Gran had sent her for the colder days in England. She really did not want to get it soaked through, but rain water would not hurt it, right?

"Again, does it matter? Let's go," Fabian coaxes. He takes her wrist and gently tugs her outside, onto the porch: the only dry area for yards in the wet fields that surrounded the house.

"Are-Are you sure you want to do this?" Nina once again questions. For once, she is stuttering as bad as Fabian, and realizing this, Fabian laughs to himself.

"Nina, are you really afraid of getting a little wet?" he replies, looking amused.

"No. And don't reply with a question," Nina grumbles. Then she remembers that Fabian still has her wrist in his hand. She blushes softly at the thought.

"If you're not afraid of getting wet, let's go then," he says for what seems like the dozenth time that hour. He pulls her out into the rain, and Nina squeals as the cold water hits her bare skin.

After a while, though, they both adjust to the rain's temperature and begin to relax in the storm. Nina lifts her chin and closes her eyes, allowing the rain to stream down her face. She breathes a long sigh through her nose, finally relaxing after holding in the sadness from missing her home. Fabian taps Nina on the shoulder and she turns to see an open hand.

"My lady, may I have this dance?" Fabian asks, taking on an Old English accent, which does not seem hard since he already has his British accent. Nina takes his hand, smiling widely.

"Of course, kind sir," Nina replies in the same voice.

He places a hand around her waist, pulling her close, the other intertwining with her own. Nina wraps her remaining hand around his neck, making sure that he has a good grip on her in case she stumbles and falls. She leans up and whispers, "Remember, I can't dance. So I'm sorry for whatever damage I do to your toes."

Fabian laughs. He begins to guide her in a slow and clumsy waltz, both of them hitting feet and turning in the wrong direction. When they eventually got the hang of it and he dips her, he adds in a low voice, "Did you know that I can't dance, either?"

Nina can't help but laugh, too, and pulls up from the dip. Fabian spins her under his arm and Nina cannot help but giggle with each step. Yes, they are both awful dancers. Yes, there is a possible chance of them catching a cold from being out there for so long. But to Nina, it does not really matter.

Twirling in the rain with Fabian, laughing and having a good time, well, her homesickness for America was slowly fading away. And it was all because of a bowl of chicken soup and a bunch of photos.

It is easy to say that she is not that homesick anymore.

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><p>I never specified a certain time for this chapter to be in the series, but I was thinking near the beginning, when it's a rainy March day or something. A time where Fabian and Nina know each other well, secretly like each other, but aren't close to goingstepping out.

Oh, and the window is not in the series. It's supposed to be that window where the telescope is located, but I'm fairly sure there are no stained glass window pieces on that window. So sorry for the confusion-I needed something to spark the idea to dance in the rain.

Hope you liked this! I'm in a majorly fluffy mood so I may write more... Please review and leave me feedback about the first chapter!

~Ary


	2. Bubblegum

Yes, the annoying thing we have to write in each story is BACK! The disclaimer, ladies and gents. *...no clapping* Anyway, I don't own HoA.

This is Season 2 starting...somewhere. I'm not exactly sure what this should take place... Oh, but we meet Eddie for the first time in my stories! Woot! (: He's a player and an arrogant person, but I imagine he has some sensitivity in that attractive self of his (; so I decided to show that in this chapter. Oh, and in case you haven't realized, this entire thing is in present tense.

Enjoy.

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><p>Chapter Two: Bubblegum<p>

"What did you like to do when you lived in America?" Mara asks, dabbing the thin brush into the nail polish bottle once more.

Nina sighs. "Wow. There are too many things to list," she says.

Mara squeezes her friend's hand shortly, then applies the brush to Nina's ring finger, turning the nail a pretty peach color with each brush stroke. Mara cracks a half-smile, murmuring, "Okay then, tell me what you would love to do in the summer."

"Summer, hmm? I would probably say, going to the carnivals at the piers. playing in the sand," Nina says, counting on the hand whose nails are not painted. "Oh, and chewing bubblegum."

"Bubblegum? That stuff that rots your teeth? Ugh, not for me," Amber says, rolling her eyes, and tossing her hair. She puts a cucumber slice over each eye, and lays down on her bed, sighing contentedly.

Nina raises an eyebrow at her roommate. She locks eyes with Mara who smirks, knowing that they are thinking the same thing. She says, "Remember that Mara chewed bubblegum when she was in her 'bad-girl' phase?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," Amber says from her spot on her bed.

"Joy, you're pretty quiet tonight. What's up?" Patricia asks, nodding to her dark-haired roommate. Everyone's eyes turn to the small girl, and suddenly, Joy feels self-conscious. And being Joy, she never says exactly what she is feeling. So, of course, when she is self-conscious, she goes on the defensive.

"Nothing's wrong. Why do you ask?" Joy snaps.

"Well, usually you're the talkative one of the party, and tonight, you're not saying much. So I was wondering why," Patricia retorts.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Nina says, stepping between them. She is the peacemaker of all the girls, as is Fabian for the boys, so it makes sense that Nina and Fabian are meant for each other. The thought makes Joy roll her eyes.

"Can't we all just relax and have a good time?" Nina says, her hazel eyes pleading to both Patricia and Joy.

Joy narrows her eyes at her once best friend. Sure, she and Patricia have been getting along ever since Joy came back, but it seems like Patricia had changed some while Joy was gone. It is like Patricia lived another life that Joy wasn't included in with Nina and Amber and Mara while the ex-Chosen One was gone. And now that Joy is here, she needs to be caught up and learn about who this new Patricia is. Of course, there are some things that has stayed the same about her red headed friend, like her snarky attitude and her constant supply of fake highlights in her hair that are constantly changing. But overall, Patricia herself had changed. And Joy is still the same person, and she is at a loss of how to befriend Patricia once more.

Joy tosses her hair over her shoulders, discarding the bottle of lotion that she was using for her hands to the side, and stands up swiftly. She opens the door, closes it lightly, knowing that the slightest noise would awake Victor and she is not so angry at her housemates to get them in trouble, and tip-toes down the stairs.

She walks into the kitchen, blindly feeling her way around the kitchen. Turning on the kitchen light would probably wake up Victor, too, so she has to somehow get to the refrigerator without light.

"I should have brought a torch," Joy mutters as she feels along the kitchen counter for the refrigerator door handle.

"Yeah, you should have," an American accent says to her left.

Joy squeaks loudly, but quickly clamps a hand over her mouth. A torch light turns on, illuminating Eddie's face. He is scowling at her, clearly upset that she has woken up Victor.

"Shut up and hide," he says, ducking under the long dining table and turning out the torch's light. Joy follows suit but hit her head against the lip of the table. There is still a bowl of fruit for decoration, and the dish clatters as the vibrations run through the table.

Eddie grabs Joy's arm and pulls her under, pushing her low to the ground so that her head is below the chairs and completely out of view from anyone who quickly looks in. Both can hear Victor stomping down the stairs with his heavy footfalls, a beam of light leading his way. The footsteps begin to head towards them, and Joy is struck with fear as the beam quickly scans over them. Her heart is beating quickly from fear with each second of waiting. But Victor must not see their crouched figures because he continues into the kitchen. He peers into the room, shining a torch this way and that, searching the room for any of those things he called "vermin" and a real infestation of mice.

Somewhat satisfied that what he heard was his imagination, Victor mutters something under his breath, turns back to the stairs and trudges up them. Joy listens to his footfalls as they grow distant and then altogether disappear as Victor goes into his office, sits in his chair, and falls back asleep.

After a few minutes of silence, Eddie releases his hold on Joy, his hand leaving her hair. She crawls out from under the table and Eddie soon follows, turning on his torch once more.

"What are you doing here?" he says.

"Me? What are _you_ doing here?" Joy shoots back.

"None of your business. But I have a feeling you want to use this flashlight to get something from the fridge," Eddie says, his usual sarcastic attitude returning.

"First of all, it's a torch. Not a _flashlight_." Stupid American slang, Joy thinks to herself. "Second, yes, I do need that; thank you. Give it here," Joy says, holding out her hand.

"Where?" Eddie jokes.

Joy rolls her eyes, snatching the torch from Eddie and shining the light around the kitchen. She sees the refrigerator's door and yanks it open, letting in a shaft of light as the automatic light flickers on.

"Give that back," Eddie says, taking the torch from Joy.

Joy scoffs, pulling out a container of macaroni, then gliding over to the drawer for a fork. She opens the container, sticks a fork in it and begins to eat.

"Cold macaroni?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up," Joy replies with a mouthful of macaroni.

He laughs, ruffling his hair. "So what are you girls talking about up there?"

She glances at Eddie, her eyes narrowed. "And why do you care?"

"Just curious, is all," he says.

"Talking about summer."

"Summer, huh? Reminds me of bubblegum."

"That's what Nina said," Joy says bluntly.

"Yeah, Nina and I were talking about that earlier. Did you know that she and I went to the same school for kindergarten?"

"How does this pertain to the conversation?"

"Nothing really, but we'd chew bubblegum on the weekends when we would hang out together." Eddie sighs as if remembering something.

"Ah, that makes sense," Joy replies drily. But Joy peers at him in the dim, limited light of the room cast by the torch. His blue eyes are downcast, seeming to pool with sadness.

"Hey, what's up?" Joy asks, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Eddie does not move her hand, but raises his eyes to meet hers. She is struck by how vulnerable he looks at the moment, as if he is showing his true self to someone for the first time in a long time. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

He opens his mouth again, saying quietly, "It's nothing. See you in the morning."

He walks back out into the hall, taking his flashlight with him, and then the light dims as he quietly opens the door and goes back to his shared room with Fabian and Mick.

And Joy is left with only a confused tension in the air and a half-eaten container of macaroni.

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><p>Ah, open-ended endings. Not very couple-y, but kind of angsty. I was going to do a Patrome thing (which did not work out, but I will do a Patricia one later) but somehow this chapter came to be... Anyway, hope you like it. By the way, I do not want Eddie and Joy together, this is a friend-angst-ish story, I DO NOT want them together. Bleh.<p>

Thank you to all who reviewed last...one-shot thing, and please give me feed back on this one-shot.

Next is "Books" and I have no idea if that is going to be a couple thing or not. So stay-tuned and...I'll see you next time, I suppose.

~Ary


	3. Books

Disclaimer: Don't own House of Anubis.

I am an idiot. I am so sorry about last chapter guys. Love informed me about the mistakes in the last one-shot, and I have to honestly say that I don't know what was wrong with me in that last one... I'll explain more in the bottom note. So go on and read. /:

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><p>Chapter Three: Books<p>

The crunch of fallen leaves under a warm, leather boot. The trees slowly losing color as the seasons change. The cool embrace of an autumn breeze blowing through hair and whipping away hats and scarves. Trees swaying slightly, their branches near-empty of leaves hit each other softly, making soft thudding noises in the quiet air.

Amber walks slowly through the breezy air, her designer high-heeled boots clacking against the pavement with each step. She looks up into the beautiful blue sky, seeing few clouds: only thin wispy ones colored a pure white. It is a gorgeous day to be outside, even though autumn isn't the best season for outdoor weather and the wind is whipping her hair around her face, causing it to be completely messy and incredibly hard to fix.

But Amber does not really care. Sometimes she needs to spend time outside, alone from her friends, away from the confusion of the house and school. Obviously, all of that stuff causes her stress, making her worry. And as everyone knows, worrying cause wrinkles, and Amber is too young and pretty for wrinkles!

"Amber, relax," she says quietly to herself. She takes a deep breath, calming down.

It is not just school worrying her. She has been talking to her father a little over the last month, and he just does not seem to be that interested in her like before. He seems really distant and uncaring, thinking more about business than his own daughter. Maybe he thinks if he just continues to shovel money to her that she will be fine and not need to talk to him as much-that shopping is all she needs and that with everything she wants in the world, she will be a happy girl.

And, at first, it worked. Amber obliviously shopped until, literally, she dropped, to which her chauffeur would drive her back to her house to rest until she could recover enough to shop again. Yet as she got older, everything she got was still as great as ever, but there seemed to be an emptiness behind the shopping and it was like she was missing out on something. Of course, Amber never thought about it, because she was just a spoiled rich girl that got everything she wanted, so what was there to think about? School was the least of her worries: if she failed a class, every teacher would succumb to letting her pass if they just got enough money in their pocket. Making friends: nothing that money could not solve, parents would be paid and tell their kids to befriend her. Her father called it, "a little donation to the family," and her new friends would immediately be closer to her.

And then, one day, it was all revealed to be just a trick. All she was liked for was her money and her looks. No one really knew the real Amber Millington, they just saw a girl's father with money and power.

It was on a day that she was ten. The teacher, Ms. Orelle, wasn't it?, and the class was partnered up to talk about what they knew about the other person. It was a sort of bonding thing, Amber remembered.

Her partner, one of her best friends, Lilly, was to talk about what were Amber's favorite color, and her favorite activity. Amber could list each thing about her partner with ease: Lilly's favorite color was purple, and she loved swimming.

But her "friend" didn't know anything about her, and that made Amber cry and she realized that no one really knew who she was. She did not have a real friend to rely on. So, she asked her father to transfer her to a new school immediately.

And when she went to boarding school and began to meet her new friends, she truly felt at home because no one judged her for her money or looks. She was just a normal girl with normal issues and good friends. Then when she moved to Anubis House ad actually got a boyfriend and dated Mick, that was the icing on the cake. She was finally accepted and people knew her as Amber, not as a stupid girl, a future heiress to a fortune created by her father.

Amber looks down, smiling a melancholy smile to herself at the memories. She returns her gaze back up to the path in front of her, continuing to walk down the way she is on, then stops at the sight before her.

Alfie is sitting against a tree, his uniform still on, reading a book. And not a book about aliens or science-fiction, but a legitimate novel. Amber just stares for a moment, shocked at the sight.

Alfie must have realized that her eyes are on him, because he glances up, seeing Amber. He smiles, putting down his book, spine-up. "Hey Ambs, what's up?"

"Are you reading a _book_?" she asks.

He chuckles. "Yeah, why d'you ask? Wanna borrow it when I'm done?"

Amber blinks, slowly processing his words. "Um, sure," she manages to get out. "Since when have you been reading books?"

It sounds a lot harsher aloud then she thinks, and Amber internally smacks herself. Why did she always ask the stupidest questions?

But Alfie seems pretty unfazed by her reaction. He marks his page, closes the book, and sets it beside him. "Uh, for a few years now. I used to not like reading that much, mostly because I thought it was boring."

"Yeah, it is. I mean, why don't they have any pictures? There's only pictures on the cover, and sometimes the back. But that's it. And how are we supposed to know what anything looks like with no pictures!" Amber says.

Alfie laughs. He stands up and dusts himself off. "Amber, you use your imagination. That's how you know what the characters look like and what the setting is like. For example, if it says that it is autumn with gold and orange trees, it's easy to imagine that because it's happening right now." He gestures to the trees above their heads that are shedding their leaves.

"Oh, that's how. I can image how beautiful that would be," she says, staring at the pretty sight around her.

"Yeah, it really is. Reading books is a great stress-relieve for anyone because the stories take you to far-off places, away from your life and all of the hectic activity around you. Whenever school or life gets too crazy for me, I always like to sneak off on the weekends and go to the library to read."

Amber stares at this Alfie that is so new to her, but still somewhat familiar. He has not gone pranking in town with Jerome like they have been saying they are doing? He has actually been reading? She always thinks that he has been goofing off or studying stupid films about aliens and other quirky things like that. But no, he has been reading books, to calm his nerves and to just relax from the crazy antics of the week.

"I always thought you had just been doing something stupid in town with Jerome on the weekends, I never thought you would be reading," Amber says quietly. Then again, I never really think about anything but myself most days, she says to herself. "I just thought that was just a Fabian or a Mara thing . . ." You know, a studious student kind of thing. Wow, I don't even think my brain knew the word "studious"! I don't even think I learned it from Fabian, I remember it from English class!

"Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving, I guess," Alfie says, shrugging.

It is silent for a bit, both of them too captivated with their own thoughts to speak. Then, a strong gust of wind blows toward them.

The gale rustles the leaves and the trees around them, making the trees sway back and forth, while the leaves spin around in circles, swirling around both teenagers and getting leaves in their hair. Several brown and orange leaves are tangled in Amber's long, blonde locks, seeming to be woven into her hair. In a way, she looks even prettier like that, as if she is a nymph in the woods and has just gotten a massive fashionable makeover.

Both exchange glances, looking at each other, and then burst out laughing at the look of each other. Alfie takes a step toward her, helping her pull out leaves from one section of her hair. He continues to laugh, and Amber lifts an eyebrow at him.

"What's so funny? Do I really look that ridiculous?" she asks.

"No, no. I'm not laughing at you, it's just the situation and the leaves in your hair-"

"So I _do_ look ridiculous!" Amber concludes. She combs her fingers through the other section that Alfie was not taking care of, loosening leaves from their snarls.

"Ambs, you could never look ridiculous. Even with leaves in your hair and your face flushed from the wind." He finishes pulling out the leaves, puts his hands on her shoulders, and makes her stare into his eyes. His brown eyes are completely serious, no trace of hilarity or joking in them.

Amber can feel a faint blush creeping onto her pale cheeks, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling. But to no avail, a small grin forms on her lips. She looks away from his usually laughing eyes and turns her gaze to the ground.

"Yeah, of _course_ I look fine. Nice joke, Alfie," she says. However, she knows he is not kidding, that he really thinks she looks fine.

Alfie puts a hand under her chin and they lock eyes again. "Amber. Seriously, don't doubt yourself. You're beautiful," he says. She wants to believe him, so badly. She really does want to believe she is as pretty as she always boasts about. It is just, for some reason, there is a part of her mind that continues to reject the idea of her looking beautiful.

"Alright, I'm beautiful. Thanks," she says dully. Her voice is devoid of any emotion, not sounding like her usual peppy self.

"Amber, I can't believe you think that. You're gorgeous, and everyone knows that." Alfie breaks eye contact, bending to pick up his book.

And Amber really smiles. She gives him a real and true Amber-smile that she rarely shows. It makes her blue eyes sparkle like aquamarine jewels, her face become as lovely as a porcelain doll, and she looks truly happy.

She takes his arm, putting her head on his shoulder. "So, do you know any books that I would like?"

"You read? I thought you only looked at fashion magazines," Alfie says in a kidding tone, grinning.

"Ha ha ha. Yes, I actually do read, too. Just, not as much as you. So, any recommendations?" Amber smiles.

He peers down at her, an amused expression on his face. "Yeah, I have a few. Let me tell you about them."

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><p>Okay, well PLEASE tell me if you find any mistakes. I really wanna know how I did on this one. Next is "snowflakes."<p>

This was supposed to be a friendship thing between Fabian and Amber, but THAT didn't work out. Hmm, none of my stories seem to go according to plan... Oh well.

A/N: I must have been half-asleep when writing last chapter, because I know I look at the story at least three times and would have found those errors... I'm so sorry about it all. And the character Jimmy that must have confused you all? It was meant to be Eddie, the new guy, but I just... I must have been thinking of Het Huis Anubis or something.

You can probably see that I changed the title. Mainly because I realized I didn't really incorporate the seasons in each one-shot very well, so I changed it. Now...it has a less cool name, but easier to write. So, sorry for confusion and such, hope you guys review this, and yeah... Bye.

~Ary


	4. Snowflakes

Disclaimer: I don't own House of Anubis.

This chapter is dedicated to Jackamojo because they are a great editor, and helped me with the last chapter and my little mistakes.

Also, when I was writing about Florida, I meant more inland but her grandmother lives nearby the beach. But, yes... Sorry, um, please just forget my stupid mistake because I had planned for a different city, but the plans changed and...

Anyway. This is Patricia's story and there's no couples. Just a bit of angst. So enjoy, and thanks for the quick reviews from last chapter! (:

[WARNING: THERE IS SWEARING. Unlike previous chapters which were all nice and happy G, this has swearing, so don't let little children read because they really shouldn't be hearing that (even though they probably already do, since TV nowadays is so screwed up.]

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><p>Chapter Four: Snowflakes<p>

Christmas lights are strung across Amber's birthday party, giving off a soft, silvery glow. The ground is cobblestones ground down to a smooth surface, allowing the girls in heels to walk down the path with no problem. Around the area are huge evergreen trees that surround Amber's manor and backyard, layered with light snow. Sadly, though, no snow falls from the sky tonight, the heavens are clear and as black as a raven's wing, cradling a huge crescent moon that glitters like a pearl with its iridescent hues and creamy white shade.

Patricia admits, it is a gorgeous night for stargazing. But no one can stargaze tonight, not with the cacophony of music blaring from the speakers that stand on each corner of the party. Dancing bodies are everywhere, leaving only the very outer edges and a pathway to the garden empty of any moving figures. Tables are set up on opposing sides of the area, holding drinks and snacks, for the hungry and thirsty guests, and a few chairs for the occasional dancer that rests for a moment before returning to the floor.

Patricia is not much of a party-goer. Most of the time she it is because she does not know what to do here. Dance? Yeah, _that_ is going to happen-not in a million years. Talk to people? Who will talk when they can be dancing; no one that she knows. The only reason she comes to these things are for her friends, who are usually standing here with her, hanging at the tables under the lights that so greatly resemble the stars of the night that are usually hanging in the sky. All of her friends are with their boyfriends, dates, or crushes/soon-to-be-boyfriends. And Patricia is alone-all alone.

Not that she minds standing alone at the drink table. She will never go out with someone, it is too difficult to manage and not worth it in the end. That lovey-dovey couple stuff is just too emotional and stupid and shallow. No girl needs a boy to make her happy, she can be fine and successful and strong on her own. Love is just the stuff made up in fairy tales, Patricia learned that early on in her life.

After her parents, who she always thought were _so_ in love, divorced after a nasty fight, they began to argue over who got custody of their only daughter. It was extremely dramatic and crazy for a young girl to go through, causing Patricia to learn to keep her emotions, the hurt and pain that had scarred her over the years, in check whenever in public. The only time they could be revealed was when she was alone, and even then she had to be careful because if someone saw her in such an emotional time, she would never be able to live it down. Love was too risky a business to invest in, what was the point really? To have a few days, weeks, months, years of happiness and then a heartbroken reality forced upon you, only to repeat the process in the future? Where is the benefit? What is the reason to do such a thing that can only hurt you in the end?

"Hey, Patricia, having fun?" asks a voice to her right.

Patricia is whisked back to the present, to Amber's Christmas party, to face a pretty brunette with two drinks in hand. Patricia takes the crystal glass from the brunette, sipping the sweet and bubbly liquid.

"Apple cider?" Patricia questions dully after tasting the drink.

Joy shoots her friend a glare, looking a bit more than buzzed. "I thought you'd like it. The alcohol tastes disgusting, and since you're driving, I think you'd prefer to not be drunk."

"What makes you think I wouldn't want to be drunk? I need _something_ to forget about this party. Look at everyone just dancing like idiots. Gotta get that erased from my mind, right?" Patricia cracks a half-smile, thinking her best friend will laugh.

However, Joy just frowns and narrows her eyes. "Stop being so pessimistic, Patricia. It's the holidays. Cheer up, would you?"

Patricia brow furrows. "Since when are you so positive, Joy?" she sneers. "Didn't think you'd have any positive memories for this time of year, at least not since Mick dumped your sorry arse for that cheerleader last year." As soon as she says it, Patricia knows she has gone way too far. She wants to absorb the words from the empty, awkward tension that forms in the air; she wants to take it back and not have Joy break down in tears again.

Joy does not cry, though. Her eyes drain of all their light, leaving dull brown irises. Her expression becomes a hard mask and her hand clenches into a tight fist. She glowers at Patricia, then tosses the apple cider from her own glass at the red head.

"I told you to never bring that up again, you bitch. Have fun going home to your pathetic life with no one to make it better!" Joy hisses, throwing her glass into the rubbish bin. A loud shatter erupts from the bin, signaling that the glass has broken. A few people from around them begin to stare, but soon ignore them and continue to chat and dance.

The apple cider is sticky and stains the purple dress that Amber forced Patricia into. Though Patricia is not one to wear dresses that often, she actually, secretly, liked the dress with its black sash and simple, flowing skirt. Now it is stained with the apple cider, and she knows the apple cider will not come out easily, if at all. But that is not her biggest concern at the moment.

Joy storms off, and Patricia thinks about running after her. But then, she knows it is futile. When Joy is in one of her moods, it is better to just let her cool off by herself.

Joy's words still sting like a slap to the face-it is true that Patricia is single and that she is lonely. But Patricia will never admit that, never to anyone; well, at least not to their faces.

Patricia walks into Amber's immense manor, turning right at the intersection between the hallway and the living room. The hallway has a few pictures, with more contemporary pieces than family photos. Near the end of the hall are two doors, one to Mrs. Millington's exercise room, the other to the bathroom.

Entering the bathroom, there is a large bathtub built into one side, and on the opposing side was a large granite counter top with a glass bowl of a sink. A toilet is tucked on the side of the counter, a rack of towels above it, and two scones full of golden light are on opposite walls. Patricia walks up to the sink, grabs a towel, and runs it under some warm water. She dabs the wet towel on the stained spots of her dress, but it just looks worse than before.

"Patricia! Where did you go?" Mara's voice called through the halls.

"Over here," Patricia says.

Mara walks into the bathroom and sees Patricia scrubbing at the purple fabric. A pitying expression forms on Mara's face, and she rushes over to help her friend.

"What happened?" Mara asks.

"I was a bitch to Joy, and I brought up the Mick thing," Patricia mutters.

Mara stops rubbing at the stains to wet the towel with water once more. She looks at Patricia in shock. "You have got to be kidding me. You brought up the Mick thing? Are you crazy? You know how she feels about that."

"Yeah, I know. It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I didn't mean to," Patricia said. _I never mean to say anything like that,_ Patricia quietly thinks to herself.

Soon, the two friends realize that the apple cider stains are going to have to be professionally cleaned because they are not coming out, no matter how much they scrub at them, so there is not much they can do now. Mara drags Patricia to Amber's room, and they find a black peacoat that covers most of the stains if it is buttoned up.

Mara and Patricia go back to the party, seeing everyone dancing like crazy like before. Suddenly, Mara is pulled from her friend's side, into her boyfriend's arms. She grins and begins to dance with Jerome, almost completely forgetting her friend standing alone at the steps of the porch.

Patricia looks on, loneliness clouding her features. She presses her lips together in a hard line, waves of sadness crashing over her. Seeing Mara spin in his arms, laughing as she is dipped, smiling by just being with him; to see everyone in her house in love-it makes Patricia long to be with someone.

Patricia imagines a tall, faceless stranger beside her. He will have his arm around her, pull her close to him. She will smile whenever she is with him, maybe even laugh a bit, too, though Patricia does not laugh that much, only with her friends. He will kiss her at the most random times, making her heart flutter and her face turn red. He will be the one for her, treat her with the utmost respect, and be a perfect gentleman.

But alas, there really is no one perfect for her. He will never be perfect: maybe too tall or too short; maybe he is too arrogant, too nice; too superficial, too ordinary-there is no one that will meet her standards.

Because after all, no one is perfect-she has already learned that early on.

An hour or so later, the party begins to disperse, some leaving to go back home, others going inside to stay warm. Patricia stays outside, just thinking to herself. No one bothers her, she is free to relax and clear her head in the cold air outside.

Something hits her shoulder. The red head turns to see a snowflake touching the fabric of her peacoat. It retains its shape for a minute, then slowly begins to melt into the black material.

Patricia looks back to the near empty yard and sees that another one appears before her. Her green eyes lock on the icy crystal, putting out a bare hand to capture it in her palm. The piece of snow lays there, looking as delicate as a white flower petal, forming a perfect six-pronged circle.

It melts just like the last one, leaving a few drops of moisture in her palm. Patricia glances up, her emerald eyes taking in her surroundings. Little white flakes drift around her, layering her hair and shoulders with a coat of snow. The ground before her looks as if it had been frosted with white icing, the trees powdered with sugar. Because of the silver lights that are still alit, and, though clouds have now formed in the sky, the large moon still shines as it hangs above, the light illuminating the snow in such a way-it truly looks like a winter wonderland.

The sight puts a smile to Patricia's face. There are so few things that are beautiful nowadays, and this sight is really extraordinary. It is great to just appreciate the small things in life, and Patricia is not going to miss any of it, even if she is alone.

And this happiness is all because of one small snowflake.

* * *

><p>I just realized...most of the words I'm supposed to be using throughout the story I'm barely using. So, sorry... :

Okay, thank you all for the reviews. Next is "Television" and WILL have couples. CX

~Ary


	5. Television

Disclaimer: I don't own HoA.

Wow, last one. Sorry for updating twice today, but I wanted to finish this before Christmas Day.

Not really couple-y, but a little MickxJoy. It shows the good, bad, and the ugly of both of them. Why I love, hate, and just get annoyed by both of them. (:

Enjoy the last one-shot!

* * *

><p>Chapter Five: Television<p>

Mick grabs the remote from the top of the television, going back to the couch and sagging into the leather seat. He hits the power button, watching the television turn on and flicker images across the screen. Flipping the channel, a commercial for dish soap appears, and Mick groans out loud. Here he is, bored out of his mind, with nothing to do, and there is nothing to watch on TV! Why is nothing on; there is always something that's somewhat interesting airing on TV!

"Truuuudy!" he calls.

The short housemother comes into the room with a bundle of clothes in her arms, looking panicked and worried. "Yes, Mick? Are you alright?" asks Trudy.

He gives her a dull, depressing look. "I'm bored. Do you know what I can do?"

Trudy sighs, the worry lines on her face disappearing. She gives him a disapproving shake of the head, saying, "Mick Campbell! I thought you were hurt or sick. Don't scare me like that!" She sighs again. "Well, you could go outside in the nice weather-"

"No," he mutters.

"-you could finish your homework-"

"Hell no."

She shoots him a look, but continues. "-or you could help me with the laundry and chores around the house."

He groans again. "No thanks. I'd rather watch the commercial about dish soap for an hour."

Trudy narrows her eyes at him, pursing her lips. "Fine then. Don't complain to me about being bored, then, if you're too lazy to do anything but mope inside all day." She marches back to the laundry room, dropping a few shirts and socks on the way.

Mick glances over his shoulder at them, but does not bother to stand up and pick them up for her. Yes, he is usually outside running or playing soccer with his friends. But every one of his friends is doing something with one of the girls of the house. Seriously, they are all paired up now and it is really annoying.

To add to his annoyed mood, Mara just broke it off with him to step out with that tosser, Jerome. How on earth is Jerome a better guy to be with than him, Mick Campbell? Jerome is a conniving little sneak, and he will only break Mara's heart as soon as he is done with her. But Mick will not be there to pick up the shattered pieces of her broken heart after Jerome has moved on. Mara will be wishing that she stayed with Mick, the one who has always been good to her even when she messed things up.

_Think on the bright side_, a little voice whispers in his head. _She was a bit annoying, being so desperate and willing to do and hurt anyone to get with you. She's not going to annoy you anymore._

Well, in a way, that is an attractive trait. Willing to do anything to get what she wants. Even if it meant betraying her friends, she had wanted him and that was, frankly, really hot. Seriously, a girl pining after him felt good, it made him feel like he was really desirable. Amber and him had been going out too long, there was no serious sparks left in their relationship until Mara came into the picture. After the bracelet incident, Amber was jealous of Mara and was more protective of Mick, meaning she wanted to spend a lot more time with him. And that was pretty great.

But then, after he actually tried making an effort in his and Amber's relationship, she was too busy hanging out with her new "friends" to give him a speck of attention. He even tried asking Fabian about their exclusive group, but his roommate acted like he had no idea what Mick was talking about. Mick knew he was pretending to be clueless-he wasn't _that_ stupid, no matter what his school grades said. He wasn't book-smart, more street-, girl-smart. Ask anyone, all the guys went to him for advice.

Apparently his girl-smarts weren't working because he thought he had been doing everything right with Amber. He paid attention to her, complimented her, and got her gifts. What else did she need?

Mara. She was an entirely different story. His entire rule book about girls had to be rethought out, she was a totally different girl than what he was used to. She was the book-smart one. After a while, though, it wasn't that hard to figure out how to take care of her. She already liked him for a while, and was so infatuated with him that he could treat her like Amber, though with more respect, of course.

Mara made him feel important and smarter than he knew he actually was. He didn't have to buy her fancy gifts or compliment her twenty-four/seven or kiss her every time he saw her like with Amber. He could just be his usual, carefree self. She liked him for just being his honest self.

But for some unknown reason, she runs to Jerome and breaks up with him. What did he do wrong? He treated her really well, even better than Amber, his long-time girlfriend that he would date on-and-off for the longest time. What does Jerome have that Mick Campbell does not?

Mick knows when things changed with her. The two weeks that he left for the UCLA audition was when Mara seemed to change. When he came back, he ignored it, happy to be back with his girl. But now, two months later after all they have been through, and he gets dumped.

"Bored out of your mind, Campbell?" a voice asks, coming from the doorway.

He turns and sees Joy Mercer standing there with a smug look on her face. The sun is shining behind her from the wall of stained glass by the stairs, causing shadows to form on her olive skin, giving her a mysterious look. She saunters toward him, resting a hand on the arm of the couch and looking at him with her sly eyes.

"What are you doing?" Her voice is smooth as silk, clearly trying to be flirty. Her eyes are half-lidded and it is easy to see that she wants his attention.

Yes, he has to admit that Joy is attractive. But she has been longing for Fabian for so long that Mick began to think of her as a little sister. Imaging himself dating her is just too odd to think about. And just accepting the fact that Nina and Fabian were together without even a pout or a scratch at Nina's face? No, that is not the real Joy.

"Watching TV. Where's Fabian?" Mick replied calmly, not showing any of his tumbling thoughts in his head.

Joy rolls her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Mick smells the scent of peppermint wafting towards him, and he realize it is coming from Joy's hair. He glances at her, his eyebrow arched in a sign of irritation.

"Oh, he and Nina are talking or something. They're in your room," she reports. She sits daintily on the arm of the couch, being a bit too close for comfort to Mick.

"Oh, cool," Mick says nonchalantly. He turns his attention to the television, which is showing the same commercial as before, only going in-depth about what the dish soap is made of and how it works. Honestly, what is there to talk about with Joy? They don't know each other that well, despite the number of times he heard Fabian ramble on about her last year. He does not really know _her_ personally, which is another reason why they are not meant for each other.

He hears Joy huff quietly to herself, apparently wishing that he whisked her away and began to flirt with her in reply. But Mick is not going to do that. One, because she once liked his best mate, and dating her might be a bit weird. Two, he does not like how she just hops from Fabian to him as soon as she gets no romantic inclination from the former. It reminds him of Mara, who danced between him and Jerome, which, really, was her only real fault in their relationship. Maybe it _had_ been Mick who had caused the demise of their relationship . . .

His thoughts are interrupted as he feels a hand on his. He looks from the corner of his eye at his elbow resting on the arm of the couch, to his hand dangling in the air. Joy had put her hand over his.

Mick shakes off her hand and quickly gets to his feet. His eyes are blazing, and for once he is angry that a girl is flirting so much with him. Joy slowly stands up, too, giving him a confused, yet really cute, look.

"What's up, Mick?" she asks innocently.

"Joy, why are you flirting with me? I thought you were still trying to get Fabian," Mick fumes.

She casts her eyes down, suddenly looking very solemn. "Well, that's the thing. Fabian is not interested in me like I thought he would still be. He really likes Nina, that much is clear. You can see it, can't you?"

He nods, his anger dissipating. And she continues. "What's the point of me following him like a lovesick puppy if I know he'll never be mine? Honestly, you and I, this entire house, knows that those two are the ones most likely to get married and live until their old together. They're going to be the happiest couple out of everyone here and there's no room for an old flame in that relationship.

"So there's no point of me trying. And since you're the only single one of the house-" Mick gives her a confused look. "Patricia is hanging out with Eddie, and it's obvious they're going to get together in the end." He shrugs in agreement.

"Anyway, I kinda wanted to see if you thought I was cute. Because I really feel crappy nowadays. I used to feel on top of the world when I knew Fabian liked me and I liked him back, but now that he's with Nina and I'm alone, well it sucks. So, sorry if I was such a slut for trying to flirt with you and making it seem like you were a rebound from Fabian. I just feel kind of screwed up now, I'm not sure what to do now in this house after being gone for so long. Plus, being quietly rejected does not make me feel any better."

Mick nods again, understanding how she feels. Being single really does suck, there is no fun to be had when one is alone. He felt really crappy after he broke up with Amber, and especially crappy when Mara dumped him. Hell, he still feels crappy-the break-up is still fresh and clear in his mind and every time he thinks about it, it's like the experience is new and it hits him all over again.

"Why don't we just get to know each other first before dating. I mean, from experience, going slow is always the best way to start," Mick suggests.

Joy smiles softly, saying quietly, "I'd like that. And I really am sorry, Mick. I don't know what came over me a few moments ago."

He smirks. "Don't worry, I actually thought it was kind of hot."

She smacks him on the shoulder. "Shut up."

Mick shakes his head, still laughing. He holds up the remote, about to change the channel, when Joy lunges for it. She snatches it from his hand, grinning in victory. Mick doesn't let her win that easily, and he grabs for it again. He gets it and falls back on the couch, but Joy tackles him and lands sprawled across him, triumphantly clenching the remote in her hand.

"Yes! I got it!" Joy waves the remote in his face. "Gotcha, Campbell." She flips the channel to the cooking channel*, enjoying every minute of her victory.

Mick bursts out laughing at seeing her victorious face. Then she realizes what position she is in, blushes pink, but laughs, too, thinking, God, we are so ridiculous.

And they stay that way, laughing with each other and watching television.

* * *

><p>Dang it, six minutes after midnight! Grrr, I wanted to finish this before Christmas Day...night, whatever.<p>

Oh well, hope you enjoyed this. Yeah, Mick is annoying, and I don't really like him. But I haven't written about him that much in this series of one-shots, so I thought he deserved A LITTLE bit of love. So here it is.

* means I don't know if they have a cooking channel in England, I live in America which has a cooking channel, so I sort of assumed there was one there. Also, I needed something for them to watch, and I don't know what shows air in England (besides HoA).

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this thing of one-shots that don't relate to each other at all. (: Um, yeah. So, if I don't finish my other challenges tomorrow, hope you guys have a great holiday season, and I'll catch you later.

Review please!

~Ary


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